Lost Homework
by Iarejedi
Summary: A Ravenclaw student has a frightening encounter with Snape. NOT a romance.
1. Fear

A/N: I do not own HP. Duh! Something we all know. ;) This is my first HP fic actually. I was kinda afraid to delve into it because I didn't feel I had any ideas good enough for it. This one kinda came to me out of the blue. It has probably been done before but I hope mine is a bit different. Snape is a little out of character but when you read the story I think you'll understand why. Either way please give me your opinion on it. Reviews are a good thing. ;) Hope you all in enjoy it.

~*~

It was late in the evening, as she walked down the cold dungeon corridors. Her foot steps echoed eerily off the wall. It was completely silent down there at this hour. There were no students moving about or talking on their way to potions class. Few students ever ventured down into the dungeons other than when forced to for potions class. They did not want to be around Professor Snape longer than was required, and for good reason. Snape loved to harass the students by scaring them out of their wits, deducting points for any reason imaginable, and giving all of them tons of homework. He was head of Slytherin house so he usually went easier on the Slytherin students but they still didn't get off **that easy. It was just Snape that made it unpleasant to come down here. The dungeons held a dark, foreboding feel that did not invite one to stay down there long. This was her first time coming down here by herself. She would not admit it but she was scared.**

            Yet, the Ravenclaw 6th year had come down there, because she had forgotten her homework for the next class. She did not wish to turn it in late and spoil her good marks simply because she had been to absentminded to remember it. So far through the school year she had been on Snape's "good-side" by turning things in on time, doing her potions perfectly every time, and paying attention in class. She loved potions and hoped to pursue a career with it someday. She could not afford to get a bad mark. It would not be good if she ended up on Snape's "bad side" because she needed his good word for later career pursuits.

            So here she was, negotiating the dark corridors, heading towards the potions classroom. She hated the dark; it made her uneasy and skittish. She was praying that Snape would be elsewhere when she made it to the classroom. If he found her down here she was sure it would not be a very pleasant experience. He might possibly deduct points just because she forgot her homework or simply because she had disturbed him. She could not risk anymore house points, Ravenclaw was already behind as it was. She might even end up getting detention with Filch. The very thought made her shudder with disgust. She paused in front of the classroom door, and took a deep breath.

               _Oh, please don't let Snape be in there_, she begged silently.

            She heard a scraping sound farther along the corridor and jumped. She shook her head, as a house elf scurried by her murmuring apologies, having just finished cleaning up some remote area in one of the other dungeon rooms. She forced herself to relax. This wasn't a big deal! So why was she getting jumpy? She just felt uneasy down here. She sensed something was wrong or out of place. She hoped to just grab her homework, and get out of there quickly. 

            She composed herself, and knocked softly on the door. Better not take any chances if he was in there. She waited a full minute and tried again. When no one answered another moment later, she shrugged and took as a sign that he was not there. She relaxed visibly and opened the door. She slunk quietly inside, glancing around then froze.

            Snape was standing, half hunched over his desk as still as a statue mostly hidden by the deep shadows in the room. Her sense of some thing being wrong grew steadily. He did not seem to realize that she was there. In her shock, she had forgotten about the door. She seemed to be doing a lot of forgetting lately. It swung back on its hinges and slammed shut. The sound was loud enough to disturb the unnatural silence and alert him that he was no longer alone.

            Snape turned slowly around to face her. His dark, piercing eyes found hers and held her like a mouse in a trap. She felt as though her legs had been turned to stone. He was still half shrouded in the shadows, giving him a sinister look. The glint in his eyes was clear even from the little light from the candles. It sent shivers of fear through her. Neither moved, nor seemed to breathe.

            She noticed that his face was deathly pale, much more so than normal. His disheveled raven black hair hung like a limp curtain over part of face obscuring his features. Still she could make out the thin lipped scowl on his face and see the tension in his jaw. His whole stance was tense, cold, and unwelcoming. She could see him clutching his left wrist with it tucked up against him. Something was very, very wrong.

               "Ms. Raissa….," his voice was low and a bit raspy with a dark undertone that put her on the edge. 

            He had called her by her first name. He never did that to anyone, not even the other professors. She stared at him wide eyed, wishing she had never come down here. She felt out of place and like she had intruded in on something unpleasant.

               "Pro-Professor Snape…I…uh…I forgot my homewo….," she stammered and trailed off. 

            Her eyes had caught sight of a strange glistening on his hands in the candle light. A thin trail of red was streaming down his hands from between his fingers and dripping on to the floor. She followed the dripping to the small puddle on the floor, where it shimmered grotesquely in the weak candle light. She gawked down at it, knowing but not wanting to believe what it was. It was blood. **His blood. **

            She felt a shudder run through her. Her eyes flew up to meet his again. He glared back at her, challengingly, but in those depthless, dark eyes she could see the pain reflected in them. 

               "Professor?" she whispered, finding her voice, and took a step forward despite her fear. 

            His eyes took on a look of rage that stopped her in her tracks. Yet, the look did not stay long before it was replaced by pain once more. He swayed slightly as he shifted his gaze down to the wrist he was clutching to his chest. She threw all fear and caution to the wind and ran to him, grabbing his arm as he staggered into the desk. He tried to shake her off but she refused to let go of him. She pried savagely at his fingers to pull them off his wrist. She felt a wave of nausea as she stared down at what she had discovered. The underside of his wrist was sliced open in a nasty gash that gushing blood in a small river. 

            She glanced up at him, and quelled under the defiant, angry look he gave her. She forgot for a moment why she had risked his wrath. What was she doing here? She felt scared and helpless once again. She saw a gleam of metal on his desk, and looked over to see a short, wicked looking knife lying there soaked in his blood. Her mouth fell open in shock at the sharp blade. What had he done? 

               "You did this to yourself?" she asked in a small voice.

               "Yes," his voice was thick with pain and emotion.

              She was stunned. "Why?"

            He did not answer her; she hadn't really expected him to. She kept one hand clamped on his wounded wrist, trying desperately to stop the blood flow as she dug through her cloak pockets with her free hand. Her searching fingers found a rumpled hand kerchief in one pocket. She pulled it out and began to wrap it tightly around his wrist. 

               "What are you doing!?" he growled, venomously, struggling to pull his arm out of her grasp.

               "Hold still!" she snapped, fiercely, and much to her amazement he did. The tone of her voice had surprised him. It had been a long time since he'd had someone talk to him that way. She glanced up seeing the startled, agitated expression on his face. She took advantage of his confusion, quickly steering him around the desk to his chair. She shoved him gently down into it. He blinked a few times surprised by the sudden shift of positions. 

               "I don't know why you did this, Professor, but I'm not gonna let you die because of your own foolishness," she finished wrapping his wrist. 

She had sounded just like her mother for a moment. Had she just said that to a professor? And not just any but the one that took pleasure in dealing out harsh punishments to those that even dared cross him. Who was she to do such? She was acting twice her age when inside she felt like a frightened little girl. She couldn't believe the pluck she had just shown towards him. They both seemed a little taken aback by her words.  

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the warm feel of blood on her fingers. His wrist was still seeping blood at an alarming rate. It was leaking through the kerchief and staining her hands. She felt panic grip her, as she pressed down on the wrist just above the wound. This couldn't be happening to her!

   _Why had he done this!?_

His breathing had become slow and ragged. His eyes had become glassy as he stared down at his wrist. There was a look in his eyes that made her want to run from him. He seemed very near losing consciousness. 

   "Professor? Professor Snape?" she shook him, hoping to snap him out of it. He didn't respond. She thought frantically of something that would make him listen to her. "Severus!" the name leapt out of her mouth before she could stop it. 

He blinked and raised his eyes to hers. She took a deep breath, feeling relief sweep through her. He needed more help than she could give him. She was reluctant to leave him like this, but else could she do?

   "I've got to go get Madam Pomfrey," she told him, quietly.

She gently let go of his wrist, and turned to run out of the room. His right hand shot up with surprising speed to clamp down on **her** wrist. His grip was like a vice, jerking back towards him. She spun back to face him, astonished and not sure what to do. 

   "Professor, please let me go. I have to get help," she pleaded, panic rising in her voice, as she pried at his fingers.

He seemed not to even see her. His eyes had taken on a dazed look. "Severus," he murmured to himself. "No one ever calls me that but Dumbledore. Only my mother used to ever call me that."

            She paused in her struggles, staring at him. He went on in a soft voice that sent chills through her.

               "I killed her, you know," he stated blandly. "I did it, because Voldemort told me too. It was how we were showed him complete loyalty when we first became Death Eaters." 

            She swallowed hard, listening with horrified fascination. She had heard from one of her Slytherin friends that Snape had once been a Death Eater but she had not thought to long on it. She figured he must be ok if he was being allowed to teach at Hogwarts. Now the reality of this truth scared her. She had never wanted to think to much about it. She did not like knowing that such evil had and still did exist in the world. Yes it was naïve of her but she couldn't help it.

               "I can still see the fear and horror in her eyes as she died. I can still feel the blood," he paused, pulling her closer. She came to him, reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to get away from him now. His glazed, haunted eyes found hers and held them. "I still hear her screams. Hers and the others. The screams of the girls I ravished then murdered some of them no older than you. Most of them just innocent muggles. I can still smell their fear."

            She felt her throat closing up and tears welling up in her eyes. He was a monster. A murderer. He had done appalling things. What had made him do such things? Why had he ever wanted to join Voldemort? For the power? It made her sick just thinking about it. She tried to make him let go of her once more, but he would not.

               "I was a fool to listen to Voldemort," Snape hissed, his fist tightening on her wrist.

            Tears sprang to her eyes, as his fingers dug into her shooting pain up her arm. He was hurting her without even realizing it.

               "I want to die," he whispered in an emotionless tone that turned her blood to ice. "I should pay for the sins I've committed. If I were a muggle you know I would have been put to death by now. I deserve to die."

               "No…," she whispered, her voice thick. Tears streamed freely down her face now. "Please stop…."

               "I do," he didn't seem to hear her. "I wish I could change every wrong decision that I made. So I could take back the pain. If I could take it all back I would, but I can't." 

            She was trembling now and crying freely. "Please, Professor, let me go!"

            She couldn't bear to hear anymore. She had to get away from him. She knew know why he had tried to kill himself. She had stopped him from getting his other wrist. He was ashamed and disgraced by the things he had done. She did not want to think about it anymore. She had to get away. She felt like she was suffocating. She couldn't' think clearly. She begged him to let her go, but he seemed caught up in a trance like state brought on by his own horrific memories. 

               "Please…Severus," she gasped, using anything to make him focus on her.

            He blinked again, and his eyes seemed to clear. His hand dropped from her wrist. Blood rushed back into her nearly numb fingers and her hand throbbed painfully. Angry bruises were already appearing on her skin from his finger prints. She backed away from him, snatching up the knife so he could not use it again. Then she turned and dashed out of the room, then away down the corridor. She kept running, blood pounding in her ears and chest heaving with each breath she took. She clinched the knife in her hand as she ran. Kids jumped out of her way, as she raced by, in fear. Tears still coursed down her face, blurring vision. She ran all the way to the hospital wing and threw the door open with a loud bang. 

            She leaned against the doorway, shaking from fear and exhaustion, gasping for breath. Madam Pomfrey whirled about in surprise. Her hand flew up to her mouth as she caught sight of Raissa standing there covered in blood and holding a vile looking knife. Raissa hung onto the door frame as though it was the only thing keeping her from collapsing. She let the knife fall from her nerveless fingers. It clattered to the floor, gleaming evilly in the light still soaked in blood. She stared back at the medi-witch for a long moment without saying anything for a moment.

               "Professor Snape," she whispered, when she had caught her breath somewhat.

            Madam Pomfrey looked sick. "What did he do to you!? If he hurt you….! I kept telling Dumbledore that man was not to be trusted!"

               "No…," she shook her head, trying to make the medi-witch listen to her. "It's him. He needs help! He…He slit his wrist!"

            This news made Pomfrey blanch and turn a shade paler. She got over her shock quickly and leapt into action. She snatched up her medicine bag, and ran to her cupboard. She began to madly shove bottles, bandages, and the like into her bag. At the same time she hurled questions at Raissa, trying to figure out what happened. Raissa tried to answer as best as she could but felt as if she were being of little help. 

               "Where is he? How bad is it?" Pomfrey asked.

               "He's down in the potions classroom where I left him. It was still bleeding very badly when I came to get you," she replied.

               "Come on!" Madam Pomfrey grabbed her by the arm, and whirled her about. 

            Pomfrey steered her back down toward the dungeons, the last place she wanted to be at again. They hurried down the halls, scattering students once more. Some of the students were the same ones Raissa had seen before. They were all giving them curious, weird looks. The medi-witch shouted at a Hufflepuff prefect to go get Dumbledore and send him down to the dungeons. The prefect took off at a run and the other students began to whisper loudly as they swept by. What could possibly be going on? 

            Pomfrey continued down toward the dungeons with out even noticing the other students. She had only one thing on her mind, and that was getting to Snape. She stormed down the corridors like a whirl wind. All Raissa could do was scramble along behind in her wake, trying to keep up with her fury pace. There was no stopping the medi-witch when she got like this. Madam Pomfrey barged into the potions classroom, and paused mid-step. Raissa skidded to a halt, nearly knocking the medi-witch over. She peeked around Pomfrey's shoulder to see Snape slumped over on his desk, wrist laying before him on the desk and blood pooling around it. The blood was crawling ever closer to Snape's face as though trying to reach out and consume him. 

               "Oh, Professor Snape!" Pomfrey gasped, rushing over to him.

            She pushed him back up against the back of his chair. His face was white and his breathing shallow. He seemed to have passed out, except the fact that his eyes were still wide open and glassy. It was creepy to see him sitting her so motionless like that. Pomfrey tried to revive him with little luck. He remained staring straight ahead. Raissa had never seen the medi-witch look this worried and sick at the same time. She didn't think Pomfrey had ever had to deal with a suicide case. 

            Raissa hung back, feeling helpless and unwilling to get involved again. She knew that Pomfrey would not be able to wake him. He would not listen to Pomfrey. He had listened to her though. She didn't know why but maybe he would now. She felt her legs carrying her forward without her telling them to. She soon found herself at Snape's side once more, and reached out, touching his arm. Snape stirred slightly and blinked. 

               "Severus," she whispered, using the name she knew he would respond to.

            He blinked yet again, and the glassy look faded a little. "So much blood," he murmured, staring down at the blood on the desk with a morbid gleam in his eyes.

            Madam Pomfrey sighed in relief that he was at least aware now. She immediately went to work on his wrist. He did not even notice her, his eyes were fixed on Raissa. Raissa didn't know what to do. Pomfrey waved at her to keep him talking. If he passed out again he would probably not wake up again. He had lost to much blood. Don't let him pass out, Pomfrey mouthed at her. She nodded in understanding. 

               "Professor," she murmured, shaking him gently.

               "Severus," he corrected, absently.

            She gaped at him in astonishment. He wanted her to call him Severus. She had only done it before because it was the only thing he seemed to respond to. She felt an odd sort of honor, yet strangeness in being allowed to call him by his first name with his permission. It was just so unlike him. She was sure once he was well again he would kill her if she did. That thought brought a smile to her face. 

               "Severus," she repeated with a smile. "Don't die on us."

               "I deserve to," he answered in raspy voice. "Forgiveness is not given to those who murder innocent people."

He kept his eyes looked on her. Her face and her voice was the only thing keeping him aware.

                "No…no, you don't deserve to die. You are wrong," she told him, vehemently. "Everyone makes mistakes in their lives." Once again she was acting much older than she felt. She wondered how she kept doing that. 

            Snape shook his head slowly with a chilling smile that seemed to make her blood run cold.

               "Where would Hogwarts be with out its potions master?" Pomfrey remarked, pouring a potion over his wrist. The wound began to fizzle and the blood stopped an instant later. She began to wrap it carefully with a fresh bandage. 

            He ignored Pomfrey and remained concentrated on Raissa. Raissa glanced over at Pomfrey, and the medi-witch shrugged just as confused as her. Why was he so focused on her? What was it about her?

               "Listen to me, Severus!" Raissa snapped, when he seemed to be close to unconsciousness again. 

            He did.

               "You are a **good man. Do not die on us. **I **forgive you," she whispered, fervently, feeling tears falling anew from down her face.**

            His dark eyes seemed to pierce through her right down into her soul. She felt like he could see right through her and was examining her. He nodded, slightly, and a new light came back into his eyes. A strange look that she had never seen before. Pomfrey forced him to drink a sleeping draught that would dull the pain as well. He was stable enough now that the medi-witch was sure he would be just fine. He closed his eyes and his whole body relaxed. He slipped away into the depths of sleep, away from the pain and into peaceful unawareness. 

               "Well, I think he'll be just fine now," Pomfrey sighed in relief.

               "Yes, Poppy, I think he will be just fine now," a raspy, wizened old voice said behind them.

            Both looked up to see Professor Dumbledore standing there, hands folded in his sleeves.

               "Professor!" Raissa jumped up.

            Dumbledore patted the air in a soothing manner. "Calm down, Raissa. What happened here?"

            Raissa swallowed, wiping the tears from her eyes. She told him all that had taken place. He listened with the gentle patience he was known for and did not interrupt her once. When she had finished she felt completely drained of energy. All she wanted to do was go to her nice, warm bed and sleep. Maybe when she woke up this would all just be a bad dream.

               "I'm proud of you, Raissa," Dumbledore smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "You were very brave tonight."

               "Professor?"

               "Yes?"

            She looked down at the blood staining her hands. "Do you know why he did this tonight?"

               "Tonight was the anniversary of his mother's death. I had hoped he was recovered enough from that tragedy, but I was wrong. The pain is still to strong for him. I should have known better," Dumbledore sighed. "I'm glad you found him or else we may have not had our potions master tomorrow morning."

            She looked back at Snape with sadness in her eyes that did not escape the medi-witch's notice. 

               "You did a great service to him tonight," Pomfrey touched her shoulder. "He needed someone and you were courageous enough to stay with him. I know of few others who would have done so."

            Raissa gave her a weak smile. Pomfrey gently steered her toward the door. "Go get some rest, dear. You've earned it."

            Raissa nodded and walked away down the hall. She could not forget what had happened though. That night would be forever remembered in her mind. The things he had told her would always haunt her. She had not lied when she said she forgave him but that did not mean she could so easily let go of the nightmares he had exposed her to. Her mind was a confused mess of tangled thoughts. But one kept coming back to her. What was it about her that had made him listen? Why her? Would she ever know the answer to that question? It seemed unlikely. She wondered if life could ever go back to normal after this. Would potions class be the same? Would he treat her any differently? She doubted that. Still she would never forget that he had asked her to call him Severus. That was probably the only time he had ever asked anyone to call him that. 

            She wondered down the corridor, lost in her thoughts. Then she stopped suddenly. She had forgotten the one thing she had gone down there for in the first place. The whole problem that had gotten her involved in this crisis. 

                 Her homework.

The end.

Don't forget to review!


	2. Trust

            A/N: I wasn't going to write a second chapter for this. It was supposed to be one shot but then my friend Melissa told me I should. I agreed. I wanted to wrap up the loose ends and I've grown attached to Raissa. I'm thinking about writing a longer fic for her and Snape. And no it wouldn't be a romance. I just don't agree with the concepts of teachers being involved in that manner with students. I dunno, I guess you'll have to wait and see. Give me some feed back if you think I'd be a good idea. And as always hope you enjoy this and don't forget to review!

~^~^~^~^~^~   

Raissa sat curled up on one of the chairs by the fire in the Ravenclaw common room. She stared down at her hands still stained with Professor Snape's blood. The fire's light flickered over it, turning its deep red color to near black. Her lip trembled and she half clenched her fist. She wanted to wash it off, to get rid of it. She couldn't. It was the only thing that helped her believe all that had happened that night. It all seemed so surreal now as she sat there warm and comfortable. Yet, she could not forget the terror that he had evoked in her.

            She swallowed as she ran her fingers over the blood. She still could not believe that he would do that to himself. The very thought of slashing her own skin and wanting to take her own life was horrifying. It made her wrist just ache thinking about it. She shuddered and closed her eyes. She could see the open, bleeding gash on his wrist clearly. She whimpered and her eyes flew open, focusing on the fire once more to calm herself. She did not want to think about the blood, so much blood everywhere. She curled in tighter about herself, feeling like her blood was freezing in her veins. 

            She pulled up her sleeve to stare at the angry bruises marring her golden skin around her wrist. She could see each of his finger tips imprinted on her wrist. She remembered the pain as he had gripped her arm. She ran her fingers over the bruises gently, wincing from the twinges of pain it sent up her arm. She even thought that he might have broken something when he held her. His grip had been like iron and his eyes so cold. 

A chill raced through her from that thought. She only wanted to forget all of it, but she could not. She closed her eyes blocking out the sight of the blood on her hands. It did not help her. The events of the night replayed over and over in her head like a bad muggle movie. 

   _I killed her, you know…_

She heard his voice echo in her mind, making her tremble. How could he kill his own mother? It was sickening to think about. She could hear the woman's screams ripping through her. She could picture her face, filled with shock and terror as she died at the hands of the son she had loved for so long. How could he do it!? He had done it all for the sake of power. That was greed brought…madness!

She could just imagine the fear on the faces of the other girls he had ravaged before murdering them. Their screams pierced her ears and she felt tears well up in her eyes. She felt sick at heart. Each girl looked like her as her mind wove the image further. Each girl seemed to **be** _her! She whimpered and buried her face in her hands; then snapped them away from her face in disgust. She stared at the blood, _his_ blood still soaking her skin. _

She half sobbed as she stared at that blood, wanting nothing more than to scrub it off. It would not help her to forget all that had taken place. No, she could never forget. She glared down at the blood, feeling dirty from it. Yet, she just could not bring herself to get rid of it. Somehow, she could not. The blood flickered in the light and seemed to be glistening. Blood. Blood everywhere. She choked back a sob and dug her nails into the palms of her hands.  

   "Raissa!" a firm hand shook her shoulder.

She jumped and looked up into the concerned eyes of her best friend Leanne. She unclenched her hands, realizing how close she had come to drawing her own blood. She traced the deep grooves from her nails in astonishment. Leanne grabbed her hand and stared at it. She gapped at the sight of the blood and dropped her hand. Leanne looked up at her in shock, her eyes holding the unspoken question of what had happened. The rumors had already spread like wild fire from the students who had been in the hall when Raissa had run to get Madam Pomfrey. With each passing of the story it had become more and more ridiculous. Some had even claimed that Raissa had murdered Professor Snape. What none sense! At least Leanne hoped so. She now felt compelled to die her friend because of the blood she had seen.

Leanne saw the look in Raissa's eyes and her questions died in her throat. She had never seen such fear and dismay in anyone's eyes. She leaned over and gently embraced her friend. Raissa clung to her and buried her face in her friend's shoulder. She began to sob, letting all her pent up emotions escape in a rush. Through her tears she told Leanne the whole story of what had happened. Leanne let her talk; knowing Raissa would feel better when it was all out in the open. She could hardly believe all that Raissa told her. She blood and bruises were proof enough that it was all true. She felt anger welling up inside her towards Snape. She had always been very protective of her friends. To hear that this had happened to her best friend made her so furious she could hardly think straight.

               "I can not believe they let him teach here! He's dangerous! He could have killed you!" Leanne burst out when Raissa had calmed.

               "No," Raissa stilled, and looked up into her friend's eyes. "No, he wouldn't have."

            She suddenly remembered how his voice had sounded when he had said to call him Severus. She could still see the contempt and hatred for all that he done shining in his eyes. He hated himself for all that he had done. He had made serious mistakes, but he would never do it again. He had turned back from his ways. He had realized how wrong he was in his actions. He was a good man. She had forgiven him. How could she forget that?

               "He only wanted to kill himself," she murmured and swallowed. "Poor Severus."

            Leanne stared at her friend in utter disbelief. Raissa was going crazy from all that had happened. Somehow, she had just managed to over look all the pain and fear Snape had caused and forgiven him. The man was a murderer! That was something that couldn't be forgotten so easily.  Why he wasn't in Azkaban was beyond her. 

               "C'mon, Raissa. I think you need to go to bed. You need to get some rest," Leanne soothed, pulling her gently to her feet.

            Raissa nodded in agreement and followed her friend up the stairs to their dorm room.

****

            Raissa sat hunched over her plate the next morning at breakfast. She did not feel much like eating and just pushed the food around on her plate. She was tired and her mind half numb. She had not slept well last night, because of the terrifying nightmares that had plagued her. She pushed them to the back of her mind, not wanting to think about them. She pushed her plate away from her, completely devoid of any appetite now. 

            The entire Ravenclaw table seemed to be tense and unusually quiet. Around her she could hear the other students whispering about her.  She pointedly ignored them. By now, the rumors about her and Snape had reached a climatic level. She could hear one Hufflepuff girl whispering to a Ravenclaw friend about how she'd heard that Raissa and Snape were secret lovers or some such rot. She nearly choked on her sip of orange juice that she was drinking. That had to be the wildest one yet! Lord, what these people would make up just to fill in the messing gaps in a story!

            She tried to ignore the frequent glances thrown her way through out the entire meal. She even found Harry Potter gazing at her from the other side of the Great Hall. She caught his eye and the two stared at each other for a long moment. His face held a look of open curiosity and puzzlement as if just looking at her would help him gain the answer to all the rumors. He turned away to talk to his friends once more and she was forgotten. That was the only time she could ever say she had been noticed by the great Harry Potter. He had never even known who she was before today. It was all because these stupid rumors. She sunk lower in her seat, wanting nothing more than to just disappear. 

            She glanced up at the staff table, scanning it quickly. Snape's regular seat was empty and the plate and silverware untouched. It was obvious he had not come to breakfast and she wondered where he was. Was he with Madam Pomfrey? She hoped he was alright, Dumbledore had said he would be. She trusted Dumbledore. She continued to stare at Snape's chair and wonder. Would he be teaching Potions today? Or was he not recovered enough from last night? What if he had managed to finish what he had started? The thought made her shudder. She was sure Dumbledore or Pomfrey would have come to tell her.

            As strange as it sounded she actually wanted to go to Potions class. She wanted to go to class and pretend that nothing had happened. She wanted to make it all seem like it was just a bad dream and see Snape as his normal, nasty self. She wanted things not to be different. This probably made her the only student outside of Slytherin that was eager to go to Potions. Even Hermione Granger was not this sick. 

               "Raissa?" Leanne touched her wrist snapping her back to the present. She had unwittingly touched Raissa's hurt one.

            Raissa snatched her wrist away and clutched it to her chest, glaring at her friend. Leanne looked abashed and went slightly pale. Raissa smiled reassuringly, wiping the anger off her face and ignoring the pain Leanne had not meant to cause. Her wrist still hurt terribly, even the slightest touch made her wince. She had not meant to react like that to her friend. She looked down at her wrist. She had a brief mental image of Snape holding his wrist the same way. She could see it so clearly that she could even see the blood running out from between his fingers. She sucked in a sharp breath and dropped her hands in to her lap. She did not want to be reminded of that now.

               "Yes, Leanne?" she broke the awkward silence and looked back up at her friend. 

               "I-I'm sorry, Raissa. I forgot about your wrist," Leanne stammered.

            Raissa shook her head and lied. "It's alright. It only hurts a little."

            Boy, was that the lie of the century! It hurt like crazy! She would not let Leanne beat herself up about it. It was not her fault. Leanne nodded, and smiled feeling a little bit better. Raissa relaxed, glad that the sticky situation she could have found herself in was diverted.

              "I was wondering what you were looking at," Leanne said.

            Raissa tried to ignore the inquisitive looks she was getting after her little freaking out episode. "Just Professor Snape's empty chair. I was wondering if he was alright."

            The two fourth year girls across the table giggled and began to whisper back and forth excitedly. No doubt what she had just said would be all over the school by lunch time. Oh, how she hated gossip and rumors! She rolled her eyes and sighed heavily.

               "I'm sure he's just fine," Leanne remarked in a tight tone that sounded as though her teeth were being pulled. 

            Raissa sneaked a quick glance at her friend and shook her head. Leanne's face held an expression of disapproval and distaste. 

               "You know, Leanne, I know you don't like the Professor. You would be overjoyed if he had killed himself. I just don't understand why exactly," Raissa remarked. 

            Leanne looked away and furrowed her brow. "He deliberately hurt you! Don't tell me you've forgotten that!"

               "No," Raissa shook her head stubbornly. She had forgotten how protective Leanne could be of her friends. It could be quite annoying sometimes. Raissa frowned. "He didn't hurt me intentionally. He was delusional and in pain. I was the only one there for him to reach out to."

            Leanne shook her head. The anger was written in her expression and betrayed in her tone. "I think you've lost it. He could have killed you! He's a murderer! He belongs in Azkaban!"

               "I have not lost it! How dare you! You don't get it do you!?" she jumped up and glared down at her friend, shaking from rage. Her voice rose dangerously. "He turned away from that! He's not a murderer! He's ashamed of what he did! Don't you get that!? He made some bad choices! We all do, but that doesn't make us all killers or evil!!" 

            She didn't care that everyone was staring. She was so angry that she had to keep her fists clenched in order not to smack her friend. How dare Leanne say such things! She just stood there for a long moment, feeling shaky and sick from her outburst. She spun around and stormed away from the Ravenclaw table. She ignored Leanne's shocked expression, the whispers about her, and the sympathetic looks. None of them understood what had happened to her, none of them could! She wasn't crazy for being able to see what few others ever saw in Snape, was she? She shook her head and refused to let the tears fall that were welling up in her eyes. She had to get out of there. She couldn't take anymore!

            She sped out of the Great Hall and slumped against the nearest wall when the doors slammed shut. She buried her face in her hands and took a deep shuddering breath. She had no idea what to do. She felt lost. She had just blown up at her best friend in the world! In one day everything had changed for her and it was all because of Snape. She wanted to hate him for it. She did not hate him though. She couldn't. Why did this have to happen to her!? 

            She heard the door open from the Great Hall and looked up. Leanne was looking around for her, but Raissa did not want to talk to her. She got up and began to walk away. She turned her back on her friend; paying no attention to Leanne calling her name. She began to run away, not sure where her feet were taking her but not really caring. She suddenly found herself at the top of the stairs leading down into the dungeons. She stared down into the darkness and felt as if something were pulling her down there. She realized now that she needed to see Snape. She had to find out if he was alright. 

            She walked slowly down to the dungeons, trying to ignore the creepy tingle running up and down her spin. She stopped in front of the Potions room door. She suddenly wondered why she had bothered to come down here. She shifted nervously, but something was keeping her from leaving. There were so many new unknown forces at work that she did not understand. She had to see Snape. She hesitantly reached out and opened the door. What was the point of knocking? She slipped in, closing the door quietly behind her. The classroom was empty and silent. There were a few minutes before the class was to begin and no one would come down here a minute sooner than they had to. She felt the oppressive silence closing in on her and shuddered. At that moment, she wanted to turn and bolt out the door and never come back. 

            She say a faint red stain on the floor by Snape's desk and felt her skin crawl. She let out a little whimper of fear as memories of last night bombarded her once more. She hugged her sides and trembled, feeling suddenly cold. She jumped at a soft swishing sound from the back of the room near Snape's desk. She froze and her eyes swept over the entire room, but found no one.

               "Severus?" her voice was quiet and timid.

            This time she heard the distinct sound of foot steps. "That is Professor Snape to you," his low smooth voice cut through the silence like a knife. She felt like someone had stabbed her in the heart. 

            He swept into view, expression set in its usual angry sneer. He stopped abruptly when he saw her. A look of astonishment crossed his face and something else she could not quite read. He seemed suddenly unsure of himself and she found that a little disturbing. He had always seemed confident and untouchable. She studied him carefully, and was relieved that he had regained some of his color. He was still pale but then he always. She thought she could still see pain in his eyes, but she was not sure. He held his hurt wrist against his chest as he had last night. He compulsively tucked it closer when he felt her eyes there.

               "I-I'm sorry, Professor Snape. I just…just wanted to see how you were," she tripped over her words and wrung her hands nervously. Why had she come down here?! "I-I'll just go."

            She started to back up toward the door away from him. 

               "Severus," he corrected quietly as though a part of him was fighting the words. "Call me Severus."

            She froze in shock and her mouth fell open. Her eyes flew up to lock gazes with his. She could see the sincerity of his words in his eyes. She could also see confusion and a strange vulnerability she had only seen last night. She felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. A smile began to play across her lips. 

               "Why did you come down here?" he asked, walking toward her.

            She could sense the unspoken questions hidden in his words. "I wanted to. I had to see you, to know that you were alright."

               "After last night…"

            He stopped in front of her and his black eyes seemed to see right through her. She once again felt as though he were reading her soul. She shifted anxiously, but bravely held his gaze.

              "You didn't think I'd come back down here," she finished for him, and admitted, "I didn't think I could either."

            He didn't say anything.

               "Put it felt like something was pulling me down here," she murmured.

               "A wizard's bond," he explained to her. "You saved my life and I am indebted to you. We share a bond now because of it."

            She bit her lip. She had heard of wizard bonds. They were powerful magic. Those that were bound together could not escape one another. They were forever connected. It was almost as close as being married to someone but without the romance. It was strange to think that she was now bound to Snape in this way. She now understood all the odd things she had felt earlier. How she could not hate him and that sort. If it was like this for her, he wondered how he felt. 

               "Can I see your wrist?" she asked, quietly.

            His expression became dark and she was afraid that she had gone too far. After a long pause, he hesitantly held out his injured wrist for her to see. He had not buttoned up his sleeve because the pressure would be far too painful. She reached out and took his hand carefully. She tentatively pushed up his sleeve and ran her fingers over the rough bandages. How odd it was to be this close to him. Last night she had not had time to think about the strangeness of their close proximity, now she did. How many had ever gotten this close to him? She had seen few come as close as she did to him now in her years at Hogwarts. 

            Her fingers went still and she trembled as she caught the faint hint of red underneath those bandages. She withdrew her hand quickly. _Blood.__ So much blood. She shuddered. _

            He caught her wrist before she could pull away completely. She swallowed hard and forced herself not to panic or freak out. This was not the Snape from last night. She flinched as pain shot up her arm. She had not realized she had used her own injured arm to touch his until now. His grip was not hard, but surprisingly gentle, so different from the night before. He slid back her sleeve to get a better look at the colorful bruises that he had only glimpsed on her wrist. His fingers gently traced over them so lightly she could barely feel it. His jaw clenched in anger when she winced again. She tried not to show how tense she was, but knew he could sense it.

               "I did this?" he asked, softly.

            She nodded. He let go as if he'd been burned. 

               "It's not your fault," she tried to soothe him.

            His lips curled up into a humorless sarcastic smile that made her shiver fearfully. "Of course it is." He turned away from her and started to walk back towards his desk. 

               "Severus."

            He paused mid-step and turned to face her.

               "No matter what you think happened last night, everything I said was the truth. I wasn't lying. I do forgive you and I still think you're a good man," she told him. 

            He stared at her in disbelief. Out in the hall they could hear the students coming down the dungeons to the first potions class of the day. They laughed and chattered happily, unaware of all that had taken place in that classroom. She and Snape stood there together. For a moment, Snape's face seemed to soften a little. "Thank you-" Then the door opened and the students came rushing in. They caught sight of the two of them standing there and fell silent. They had all heard the rumors; each had their own thoughts on what had really happened. The sight that had greeted them had surprised them and they stood uncertain of what to do. Snape turned away from her and snapped at the students to find their seats. 

               "And don't worry about your homework, Raissa," he acted as though he was picking up the end of a pretend conversation.

               "Thank you, sir," she caught his eyes as glanced back at her and grinned. She thought she saw the barest hint of a smile on his face before he turned away completely. He barked at the students to open their potions books to page 94. She shook her head at the furtive looks shot in her direction. This would certain turn into the best rumor ever. She grinned to herself. Ravenclaw student found alone in classroom with Snape, oh the possibilities! She bit her lip to stifle her laughter.  She left the classroom, shutting the door silently behind her. 

There was a lot more to Professor Severus Snape then she thought. She was proud to be counted as one of his friends now. 

The end for real. ;) Maybe.

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